


Must Have Known All Along

by AsexualMagneto



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Dragons, Erik no, M/M, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 06:08:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4694975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsexualMagneto/pseuds/AsexualMagneto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Setting: AU where people only age past 18 once they meet their soulmate. Charles is the favored court engineer, architect, and artist to King Erik, who has ruled since the dark days of mutant oppression and revolution.  Seeing as the chances of meeting your soulmate are about one in ten thousand, Charles had never expected things to fall into place so suddenly.  A remix of traumschwinge's work, for X-Men Remix 2015.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Must Have Known All Along

**Author's Note:**

  * For [traumschwinge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/traumschwinge/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Should Have Known All Along](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4394678) by [traumschwinge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/traumschwinge/pseuds/traumschwinge). 



Charles never tired of studying the fine laughter lines and wrinkles on the King’s face. He admired the graceful aging of his profile and the silvering streaks in his amber hair, evidence of his time on Earth – so shockingly different from the smooth, blank slates one would see on the vast majority of the population. So different from the blank slate Charles saw in the mirror every morning.

No-one knew precisely how old the King was. Court records told of his reign up to two centuries previous. He had come to power at the end of the largest mutant revolution known to history – born in a small village and accused of witchcraft the moment his powers had manifested, he’d faced enslavement and torture at the hands of the humans in power, desperate to suppress any threat to their reign. Presumably, he’d outlived his parents in this situation, stuck in teenaged limbo and caked with blood and dirt.  Legend has it that he flew into a fit of rage after another beating of a mutant child pushed him over the edge. He seized control of every metal cannon, sword, shield, arrow, and any scraps he could find, and leveled the entire mansion he’d been kept prisoner in for so many years. It was a decade-long fight after that, finding other mutants and convincing them to join the resistance, but Erik had won, and the new court had appointed him as the first Mutant King. 

Charles’ eyes traced the dry historical tome for the hundredth time since arriving at the royal palace. People were usually fascinating to him, and he’d long matured from the days of his youth where each new face and thought was frightening and overwhelming. He danced between acquaintances, old friends, and foreign dignitaries at balls, and at dinners he would immerse himself in the stories of visitors from other countries, bubbles of intimacy cropping up wherever he had one-on-one conversations.  He never read beneath surface thoughts without permission, but the minds and lives of strangers were so colorful and unique, he never tired of meeting them. Especially mutants – who were, (very slowly, as the realm’s curse, which stopped aging at 18 until one met their soulmate, caused a lull in human evolution), replacing the homo sapien population. Mutant numbers had just overtaken those of humans, and yet anti-mutant crimes occurred daily.

However, there was something about King Erik that drew Charles to want to know everything about him. Perhaps it was the enigma that surrounded him even during their intimate conversations – and Charles had had more intimate ones than most of Erik’s court artisans, he was certain, His Majesty divulging private thoughts and fears to his favorite artist and engineer of ten years that Charles could never have found in history books. And yet, here he was, in the palace’s magnificent library, reading through yet another carefully dated handwritten court record from two hundred years ago for hopes of some insight into Erik’s past. 

He told himself that he was a scholar, a man of science and knowledge, and that curiosity about historical figures was only natural. And yet, his heart skipped a beat when he came across the name he’d seen mentioned briefly in other texts – _Magda_.

She must have been Erik’s soulmate. There was no other explanation. She was the only recorded partner to the King in all of his time reigning, dying almost twenty years after their marriage, and the evidence of aging meant he must have met, and loved, _somebody_. The true mystery is how Erik managed to avoid following her to the grave. Most soulmates died within months of each other once they’d met, even in tragic circumstances where one of them died young. The trauma of losing one to whom your soul had bonded was too much for a human being to handle. Then again – Erik was no human.

Charles had heard the court rumors, of course. Servants had whispered to him after he’d first arrived, telling him stories of how Erik had killed his own soulmate so that he may reign eternally. For a time, he’d believed it. He could feel the raw power emanating from the man whenever he entered the room, and used to shiver at the firmness of Erik’s beliefs, the steely confidence he projected while addressing the court. 

However, time alone together had truly exposed a new side of the King. His Majesty had taken a liking to his talented young court engineer early on, and they’d shared many drinks and chess games together while Erik puzzled out policies or courses of action. Charles was always happy to provide advice or a sounding board for Erik’s ideas. His Majesty also financed an untold number of Charles’ bizarre projects and ideas, especially since several of his earlier inventions had nearly tripled Genosha’s manufacturing efficiency and led to a boom of wealth across the kingdom. When Charles came to His Majesty with proposals for colossal statues to straddle the river leading up to the palace, or boats that could fly across sea or sky on dragonfly’s wings, Erik would simply smile, shake his head, and ask what Charles would need. 

His Majesty had a way of smiling, particularly around Charles, which lit up his grey-blue eyes and crinkled the crow’s feet at their corners with such affection that Charles could feel it even without his telepathy.  Charles had long ago realized that rumors of Erik’s crime against nature were nothing but stringy lies manufactured by bored servants who hadn’t had the pleasure of Erik’s attention or companionship.

And yet, Erik never spoke of Magda. Charles had prompted him, only a few times over the years, but Erik’s expression would grow closed-off and pained and he would not speak for long moments afterwards. Charles would sense waves of what he could only describe as aftershocks from Erik’s mind, trembling, nauseous feelings like he was losing her all over again that must have emanated from his very soul.  Seeing as the feeling was unpleasant enough secondhand, Charles spared him from mentioning it often.

So he was left to the books to satiate his curiosity about this part of Erik’s past.  The court records were impersonal, recorded by some bored scribe fulfilling his job centuries ago, and so Charles was left with only facts and no feelings to piece together the story of Erik and Magda.  It was exhausting, and he wandered rarely to this section of the library.

Charles closed the leather-bound book in frustration. This record contained nothing more than dates and appointments. Magda had been delegated diplomatic responsibility for several countries in the southeast; a place Charles could only infer was her place of origin.  However, shipments of fruit and lumber told him nothing about the woman whose soul had fit perfectly alongside Erik’s.

 

*******

 

Charles wandered into the court where the King was holding parliament with the lords of the neighboring towns, squabbling about the usual taxes and tariffs.  Erik was facing the quarrelling with the same steadfast, stone-cold persona as always, but he relaxed marginally when he saw Charles enter the room. 

Charles settled on an empty cushion next to the throne whispered conspiratorially, “I do hope the Lord of Berkshire resolves his trading conflicts soon. I fear for his health, with all of his blood trapped in his head like that.”

The King huffed a quiet laugh, leaning subtly towards Charles while his eyes remained locked on the courtyard before him. “He has petitioned the court with the exact same proposal every day for three weeks now. I doubt a resolution is on the table for today.”

“How fares the Kingdom of Genosha today, regardless of His Lordship’s vain attempts to reprioritize subsidization of his agricultural products over those of his neighbors?”

“It fares well as ever.  The summer is mild and we are bound for another bountiful harvest. In all likelihood, I could disappear from this room and no one would notice, it would hardly make a difference to these gentlemen.” 

Charles smiled and leaned closer. “And how does His Majesty fare today?”

Erik looked away from the squabbling lords to share a warm look with his favorite court artist. “All the better, now, for your….”

Charles was slightly alarmed by the King’s trailing off of words where he was usually so assuredly-spoken, along with the sudden change of expression.  “What is it, sire?" 

“Your… your company. Of course. I’m sorry, Charles, it seems you have something here which caught my eye…” Absentmindedly, Erik reached toward Charles’ forehead.  Charles watched Erik’s hand as it gently moved a lock of his hair, his expression one of shock and wonder.  Charles felt his touch as if pleasant warmth radiated from his fingertips.

“Erik? Your Majesty?” Charles whispered, somewhat breathlessly.  “What –“

“It’s nothing,” Erik said, quickly, and smiled as he withdrew and turned back to face the court.  Charles, puzzled, sat out the rest of the parliamentary session at the King’s side, occasionally offering comments to amuse him, but turning over the interaction in his mind the entire time.

 

******

 

The mirror and Charles’ hairbrush held the answers to the King’s bizarre behavior earlier.  There, on his forehead – subtle, but sure – was a growing streak of silver-grey hair.

He must have met his soulmate – there was no other explanation.  He must have met them, and it must have been some time ago, too.  How does one _miss_ that they’ve bonded with their soulmate?  Sure, Charles had had a few flings in the past, but none of his relationships had been life-changing… oh god, what if his soulmate had been the young woman he’d let down easy right before moving to live at the court? Charles had the sudden urge to track down everyone he’d ever known and search for similar signs of aging. 

Charles spent the afternoon wandering the town, puzzling over it in his mind, and dodging the servants sent by the King to summon him.  It was a game they were quite used to him playing, but for once Charles truly needed some peace rather than simply feeling mischievous.

He found himself on the outskirts of town, headed towards the seer who lived with her brother and her shepherd sons up the mountain. He climbed the cobblestone path steadily, cool countryside wind caressing his arms and face, and tried to sense potentially creaky bones and sore joints.

He arrived at the seer’s cottage with little incident but a with a troubled mind, and the seer knew right away. “Come in, child,” she invited, ushering him into the cozy and herb-scented home. 

“What brings you here today?” she queried, placing a warm cup of tea in his hands.

Charles smiled and thanked her. “I’m afraid it’s yet another trouble with soulmates, come knocking at your door.” 

The old woman tsk’ed.  “You know I do not help people find their soulmates.”

“Of course, ma’am, and rightfully so.” Charles flashed her another smile.  “In my case, however, it’s less that I have not found them, and more that I have not realized I found them.”

“You have already met your soulmate.” 

“You say that with such certainty! You _must_ know who it is, dear madam, please tell me.”

“I suppose, if you are truly so anxious, I could take a look… what do you offer in return, child?”  The seer never asked a price for her readings, but it was customary to offer a gift in exchange. 

Charles perked up, eager to share his gift. “I offer you a memory.”

“Oh?” 

“Yes. Do let me know if it brings you as much joy as it brought me…” Charles closed his eyes and pressed his fingers gently to his temple, drawing up a memory from his childhood to share with the seer. It was a warm memory, from a bright summer day, picking marigolds and poppies with his mother and sister before they’d died not too long after. In the distance, they saw a dragon take flight from its mountain perch; to the children’s delight, it flew close over them and knocked them on their backs with a mighty whoosh of wings and a blur of colorful scales.  Their mother had screamed in fear, but Charles knew the creature meant them no harm, and had been obsessed with the possibility of human flight ever since.

The memory faded with a lingering golden glow, and the seer smiled. “Oh, how lovely! Now, child, let me see what I can do for you…”

The old woman took Charles’ hands in hers and closed her eyes in concentration.  Charles could sense her gently probing through his memories, presumably following them into relevant threads of future possibilities as her mutation allowed her to do. 

Suddenly, the woman laughed. Charles, startled, jumped back. “What is it?”

The seer smiled warmly at him. “I’m afraid, for such a lovely gift, my answer will be quite disappointing… but you already know who it is, my dear!”

Charles frowned.  “I’m afraid I don’t. That’s why I came to you for help.” 

She shook her head. “You must delve a little deeper into your heart, my child. You spend so much time enamored with others’ lives and emotions that you’ve forgotten to slow down and experience your own.” She walked to her windowsill and plucked a stone from its spot in the afternoon sunlight filtering through the dusty windows.  “Here, take this. Hold it close to you while you think, to encourage mental and emotional clarity.” 

“Oh, that’s too kind, ma’am, I cannot take your crystals…”

“In exchange for a memory as warm as you have given me, I only hope it helps you achieve your goal.” She placed it in Charles’ palm and folded his hand around it.  “Now go, Charles, your soulmate is waiting for you.” 

Charles smiled, still confused but touched by the seer’s gesture.  “Thank you, madam seer.” 

“Please,” she said with a smile, “call me Wanda.”

 

******

 

Charles held the crystal tightly in his hand the entire walk back to town, his mind turning in just as many circles as it had before. The comment the seer had made about Charles living too much through others’ emotions to pay attention to his own had struck close to home, and he spent the walk down wishing ardently that he could read his own mind as easily as he could read others’.

He reached the palace just as the sun was setting, and he sighed, looking down at the crystal in his palm. He was just as lost as he was when he’d left, seeking her help. All that had changed was that he had now had a wonderful interaction, a warm cup of tea, and a stone exactly the same blue-grey shade as Erik’s eyes. 

Charles blinked, suddenly, understanding flowing into his mind as if it had been there all along.  Everything clicked into place, and he stood frozen in the corner of the gardens staring at the stone in his hand for what felt like hours as his mind spun around the knowledge.

Erik. King Erik, ruler of all Genosha, was his soulmate.  But Erik had already met his soulmate! Was it possible to have unrequited soulmate feelings? No, that would be ridiculous. So this must mean….

Charles’ head was spinning. Scientific studies of the soulmate phenomenon were few and far between, and nobody quite knew how or why they happened, though legends told of a witch’s curse several millennia ago.  If Charles were truly Erik’s second, or possibly third soulmate, would that confirm the theory of reincarnation? Or were they different souls, meant to be with Erik for different reasons? 

_Only one way to find out_ , Charles thought, and started sprinting towards Erik’s chambers in a sudden burst of energy. 

It wasn’t until he reached Erik’s door that he suddenly stopped, gripped by a vise of anxiety.

Morbid thoughts suddenly circled through his head, what-if’s and what-if-not’s pecking at his mind like crows. He clenched the stone in two trembling hands, close to his heart, and sank to the floor slowly as his eyes filled with silent tears.  Was he truly ready for everything to change? What if it changed for the worse?  Did Erik know? Did Erik _want_ to know that he was apparently destined to live the last few years of his centuries-long life with his naïve young court engineer?

Suddenly, the door swung open, and Charles tumbled onto the floor as the doorway was filled with Erik’s silhouette. 

“Charles?” Erik said, puzzled, and Charles could only stare up at him in shock for a second before he burst into laughter.

“What is it? Charles?” Erik knelt in front of him, reaching towards him to wipe at the tears he’d noticed streaking down Charles’ face.  “Where have you been all day? What’s wrong?”

Charles laughed and hiccupped as Erik touched his face. Oh god, it felt so right, how could he have not noticed this before?  “It’s you,” Charles babbled between gasping breaths.  “Erik, it’s you!” 

Erik held Charles’ flushed, crying-with-laughter face still so he could look in his eyes, and it was a moment before he realized what Charles meant. He closed his eyes, sighed, and smiled. 

“Yes, Charles. I think it is, too.” 

When Erik opened his eyes again, they were warm, and a little bit wet, too, and Charles started laughing again as Erik pressed their mouths together.

 

******

 

Erik pulled Charles to his feet and walked him right into his chambers, past the sitting room and guided him gently down onto his bed.  It was a magnificent four-poster canopy bed, large enough to fit five people easily, and Charles would have been more impressed with it if his eyes weren’t fixed on the man above him. 

He held Erik close, pulling him back every time he moved slightly away, sometimes to press more warm kisses to his mouth and sometimes just to bury his face in his neck and laugh at the absurdity of it all. He felt the low rumble of Erik’s laughter deep in his chest in response. 

They spent a long while at the foot of the bed, exploring one another’s mouths and touching one another’s faces and gazing at one another with wonder.  The sun had long since set, and the fireplace and a few wall sconces illuminated the room intimately. Charles traced the lines of Erik’s jawline, his prominent cheekbones, and he smaller, nearly invisible lines of wrinkles around his eyes that only served to make him more handsome. Erik caught Charles’ hand on his cheek and pressed kisses to his palm, slowly moving down his wrist, luscious and indulgent on the sensitive skin. 

Charles drew Erik’s mouth back to his for a kiss, which quickly turned deep and wet and full of years’ worth of despair over wasted time.  Erik pulled away reluctantly, only to make quick work of Charles’ shirt and pants, leaving him bare and flushed and grasping for the closeness of Erik’s body once more.

Erik scooped Charles up in his arms again and pressed frantic kisses into his neck and shoulders, cherishing the softness of Charles’ skin and the way it made him laugh with delight.

They made love in a haze of golden light. Charles never thought he’d be so happy to receive a cock as he was taking Erik’s long shaft inside of him, gasping shocked little sounds of pleasure into Erik’s mouth with each thrust. He clutched at the sheets if only to avoid leaving fingernail scratches all along Erik’s back, overwhelmed with sensation. Every single kiss and caress felt, to Charles, like a gift.

Erik finished inside of him with a low sob of satisfaction.  Charles looked up at him with shining eyes and a blissful smile.  Erik kissed him tenderly, holding him close and bringing him to completion with his hand.

 

******

 

After their copulations, the couple laid tangle together on the magnificent bed, legs entwined and Charles’ head tucked firmly into Erik’s chest.

Pensively, Erik ran his fingers through Charles’ hair.

“Charles?” he began. 

“Mmm, yes?” A broad smile spread across his lover’s face.

“Are you… ready? Now that you know you are going to grow old and die?” he murmured.

Charles paused for a second, then laughed. “Oh, god! Well…” he thought for a moment. “Erik… maybe, for you, I am.”

Erik’s arms drew him closer and he sighed happily, pressing a kiss to the King’s skin. “Are you?” 

It was a genuine concern of his, of course, thrown out lightly amongst the banter and post-orgasmic high. However, there came no response. 

“Erik?” Charles asked after a moment. He shifted away just enough so that he could look his partner in the eye.  Erik’s gaze was distant and his mind was cloudy, almost entirely blocked from Charles’ senses. 

Finally, he whispered a response. “No… I’m not…” And Charles almost didn’t catch it in time. 

With a gasp, his fingers flew to his temple to freeze Erik and halt his powers, which he could feel summoning a silver-handled knife from across the room that was now resting a few inches behind his back. He panted with shock, and with exertion, a bead of sweat running down his forehead. All traces of endorphins drained from his blood immediately, replaced with cold adrenaline. 

Carefully, he activated the centers of Erik’s metallokinesis in his brain to lower the knife to the floor, then he turned back to stare at the man frozen in his arms.  Looking into those gray-blue eyes, blank now and staring unblinkingly into the distance thanks to Charles’ mental hold, he suddenly felt a wave of frigid fury and betrayal rush through his body.  He threw the covers back and disentangled himself from Erik’s limp boy, not moving his fingers from his temple and not faltering in his telepathic concentration.

Charles backed slowly to the other side of the room, then dropped his fingers and his control of Erik.  “You…” he began, voice low and cold with anger, “You have one chance. _One_ chance to explain yourself.” 

Charles knew what it looked like, but he didn’t want to believe. Part of him hoped that Erik had a good explanation and he could crawl back in his arms and make love every night until the day they grew old and died, together.

Erik at least had the decency to look bashful as he shook off Charles’ mental control.  “Charles… I’m sorry.” 

“Sorry for trying to _kill_ me?”

“I don’t want to kill you, Charles.”

“Then what the _HELL_ were you just trying to do??”

Erik couldn’t lie.  Charles could read his intentions in his mind clear as day, now that he knew what to look for, and now that he had significantly less moral justification against the intrusion. 

“I don’t want to. But I must.”

“ _Bullshit_.”

“Charles, this kingdom needs me! There is still so much work to be done! I’ve fought too hard and too long for the rights of my people to not see my journey completed.”

“It will _never be over_ , Erik! There will always be new wars to fight! The point is not that we fight them for all eternity! You are trying to play God if you do.”

Erik gave Charles a cold stare, one he’d seen His Majesty use many times on foreign dignitaries who tried to deny Erik his most basic principles.  Firm in his beliefs as always. “Charles, this kingdom needs me, at full strength, for another hundred years at least.”

Charles reeled back on him with fury. “And I don’t suppose you think that my life, short and pathetic as it may be, might be worth anything to this world??” Even nude with ejaculate dripping down his thighs, he was an impressively commanding figure, his mind too brilliant to bear and his powers amplifying his anger and casting his presence around the room.  Any man other than Erik would have cowered.  As it was, Erik was regretting underestimating him.

“You killed Magda, didn’t you?” Charles added, quietly. He could see Erik flinch at her name. 

“I had to.”

Charles was already seeking the details out in Erik’s mind.  He considered it self-defense, at this point. “Poison in her wine, wasn’t it, Erik? Oh! The history books never mentioned that she was _pregnant_!”

“I had to _then_ more than ever! Dead mutants were being dropped on my doorstep every _day_ , Charles, and each year I aged I lost the strength I needed to fight back! It killed me to do it. You can tell, can’t you?” 

“Don’t you _dare_ try to play the self-sacrifice card, Erik.  Don’t you dare try to justify this as being ‘for the good of our people.’” 

Charles leaned back against the wall, covering his face with his hands, tears rolling down his face now.  He let out a sob.  “Oh god. Erik.  We were going to be so happy together.” 

“Charles—“

“I loved you!” Charles shouted. “And I bet she loved you, too. My god, Erik, look at what we’re getting in return.”

“Charles... you must know I love you, too.” 

Charles closed his eyes, mind burning with betrayal yet still sensing the truth behind Erik’s words. 

“You are asking me to die for your cause, Erik.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“You cannot play this game and expect people to forgive you.”

“I never wanted to have to do this again. Charles… I truly, deeply wish I’d never met you.”

Charles nodded and looked to the ground, tears running down his face.

“Me too, my friend.” He raised two fingers to his temple again, freezing Erik in place once more.  He walked up to the bed and leaned in for a kiss to Erik’s stilled lips.  “Me, too.” And the King’s world went dark.

 

******

 

During the next several years, an extensive manhunt occurred for the man who was now considered a traitor of the highest abhorrence to Genosha, complicated by the fact that nobody on the palace staff, nor the town, nor His Majesty himself could remember a single thing about the mysterious soulmate who’d stolen his immortality and disappeared. There was no record of the man for whom they searched, no trace; no one could remember his name and most had no recollection of ever having met such a person.

Erik was left with nothing but an aching sense of loss, memories gone and the man he loved along with them. Each year his powers grew weaker, his body less stable, and it appeared his long-despised end was truly on its way. Several decades more to rule was marginal compared to what he’d dreamed of - a future where mutants were truly the rightful inheritors of the earth.

Sometimes, he could remember fragments, though. Like, trees… sunlight… a kiss….

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really, really, really, really really, really sorry.


End file.
